Dabbles in Drabbles
by canarylongbottom
Summary: A series of drabbles, each featuring a different couple, predominantly Jily, although other couples will be featured. Each chapter is a separate oneshot.
1. Bespectacled

Couple featured: James and Lily Potter

* * *

"Don't you ever get sick of wearing your glasses? I don't think I've ever seen you without them except when you're asleep," asked Lily one night, as she lay beside James in the dim light of the bedside lamp. Before her boyfriend could say a word, she took off his black, rectangular glasses and put them on her own face.

James protested at the blurry sight of Lily wearing his glasses. "Lily, I can't quite see you, you realize."

She grinned wickedly and kissed him on his nose. "Didn't see that coming, did you?"

He smiled in spite of himself, and put his arm around her. The two of them sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes until the still-bespectacled Lily broke the silence.

"My father used to have glasses like these," she mused.

Mr. Evans had been dead for less than a year. James looked at her, and he thought he could detect a sad expression on her face. He let her continue speaking.

"When I was really small, I didn't know what glasses were, you know? I'd take them off his face and put them on mine. I looked like a cartoon, with giant glasses and a baby face. They kept sliding off my face." She laughed softly at the memory, and James joined in.

"I remember when I first got glasses," James said. "I was right put off. I was only four, and no one else my age that I knew wore them. I'd keep hiding them in mum's room, which now, thinking back, was a horrible hiding-spot…thank Merlin I've improved at that. I remember one time I dug a hole in the garden, and hid my glasses in the hole. I told my mum and dad that I'd lost them, but the first thing they saw in the spring was a garden gnome wearing them. We had a laugh years later, of course, but at the time I was in so much trouble."

Lily giggled. "When I was four, my parents, who were tree-huggers—I mean, my sister and I are named after _flowers_, for Agrippa's sake—dressed me up like one, too. I'd go to Muggle school in tie-dyed shirts and hemp skirts and flowers in my long braided hair and I knew all the lyrics to the Beatles songs. Thank Merlin I grew out of that as soon as I was old enough to pick out my own clothing, although my mum was rather fond of pink flowery print, which clashed horribly with my hair."

"Did I ever tell you the story of my pink flowery shirt?"

Lily shook her head, intrigued. "Do tell."

"One of my great-aunts bought me the most fashionable shirt in Muggle couture in 1965, which happened to be a vividly pink flowery shirt. I hated it so much that I inadvertently burned it—oh Lily, don't give me that look, I was _five_, I couldn't control it. But the next day I found the shirt in my closet again, and I was horribly dismayed. Turns out my great-aunt had seen it catch fire and bought me another. I tossed it the moment I grew out of it."

Lily buried her face into James's arm, which was around her shoulder, trying to hide the fact that she had dissolved into laughter.

"Hey, don't you laugh! I pulled it off!"

"I'm sure you did," she said in between giggles. James couldn't help it—her laughter was so contagious—and he joined hers. He snuggled in closer to her, and within a few minutes, he had fallen asleep.

Lily glanced at the boy asleep on her shoulder, smiled, removed his glasses, and turned off the light.


	2. Fighting

Couple featured: Mary and Reginald Cattermole (set in the Marauders Era)

* * *

It was a Friday evening, and Mary was sitting by herself in The Leaky Cauldron. She didn't much feel like company, which was extremely uncommon for her bubbly personality. But the wizarding war had strange effects on everyone. Look at Lily Evans, dating James Potter, the boy for whom she'd sworn eternal hatred. Look at Frank Longbottom and Alice Prewett—Longbottom, now.

Mary sat at one of the barstools, contemplating. She wouldn't get drunk alone, of course, it was wildly unsafe. But she needed something to get her mind off the fifty witches and wizards murdered last night, along with the thousands of Muggles whose names wouldn't appear in the Daily Prophet.

"Anything I can get you?" asked Tom the barman.

She muttered to herself, "Fuck it," and to Tom, said, "I'll have a beer, please." He nodded and shuffled off.

Mary had been sitting alone for a couple minutes when another boy came and sat at the bar, a few stools away from her. When he saw her, he did a double-take and pulled up the stool next to her.

"Mary?"

The girl jumped and turned. It took her a few seconds to orient herself, and when she recognized him, she said incredulously, "Reg?"

He was the last person she'd have ever expected to see at a bar, but she was the last person anyone would have expected to be seen _alone_ at a bar, so she supposed they were both out of their comfort zones. He looked sadder than normal, she noted.

"What are you doing here, Mary?"

"I could ask the same of you."

Reginald Cattermole didn't seem to have any friends other than Mary, at least, she had never seen him spending time with a fixed group of people. Sometimes he spent time with James Potter, but most of the time he was with Mary.

"Last night—" He scrapped the sentence and began again. "I, er, Mary, did you read the papers today?"

She shook her head and balled up her fists. "The Daily Prophet is biased and I can't bear to read their awful lies."

"Oh. Well, did you hear about the fifty witches and wizards that were murdered yesterday?" he said slowly, as if it was very difficult for him to get the words out. His face was expressionless, but there was a great deal of sadness in his eyes.

Mary nodded.

"My mum and dad were…too."

"No," Mary gasped. Tears filled her eyes, and she turned away so Reg wouldn't see her face. But he had seen, and she was horrified to see that tears had filled his eyes, too. His once expressionless face crumpled, and he buried his face in his hands.

Mary didn't know what to say, so she flagged Tom down and ordered another beer. She ordered one for Reg as well.

A few minutes later, the two sipped their beer in silence. Mary's sudden tears turned to tears of fury, and the anger built up higher and higher, until she banged her fist on the counter so hard that their beers toppled. Reg was startled out of his sadness, and looked at her.

"It's just—it's not fair, is it?" she cried. "I—you—your parents, they didn't do anything wrong, except for _living_, peacefully, they never hurt anyone. Muggleborns like me are hunted down, and we didn't do anything wrong either, except for existing, and that irritates some people so they kill us? It's horrible, it's unjust, it's—"

She was sobbing in earnest now, and she felt guilty for crying when Reg was the one who should have been, but the alcohol had blurred her mind and she wasn't sure she could have stopped even if she wanted to.

Reg wiped the tears from her eyes and awkwardly patted her hand. "Mary, d—don't cry, and yes, it's horribly unfair, I don't even—I don't know what to do. I don't…"

He took a deep breath and said the rest of his sentence quickly. "I don't want their killers to be alive." He paused for a second, and then added, "Is that wrong?"

Mary shook her head. "I'd want revenge too, Reg."

She looked at his face and noticed that he was looking her in her eyes. She didn't break eye-contact.

"Help me," he whispered hoarsely.

She nodded because she needed to do something. She'd wanted to do something for so long, but she didn't know what. Now she finally knew. She put her hand on his and squeezed it.

"We're fighting. Every day we're alive, we're fighting."

Before Mary knew what was happening, Reg had kissed her, and she was kissing him back and everything else was a blur. In that moment, she knew that if they died, they would die fighting, together.


	3. Soup

Couple featured: James and Lily Potter. Muggle AU.

* * *

"James, would you chop some onions for me?" called Lily Potter from the kitchen to her husband.

James, who had been sprawled on the sofa in front of the TV after a long day hard at work, yawned and called, "Oh, do it yourself," but flipped off the switch and made his way to the kitchen, where his wife was stirring a large pot of something that smelled delicious.

"I would, but you have glasses. They protect your eyes from the onion fumes," Lily smiled. James groaned exaggeratedly as he opened a drawer to grab a cutting board and a knife.

"So who's rendez-vous'd yet?" asked James, as he peeled the onion expertly and quickly chopped the bulb into minuscule pieces.

"Frank and Alice haven't yet, but Mary and Marlene said they'd be here at seven on the dot. I think the surprising thing here is that Sirius called and said that the lot of them would be on time—"

"—which means they'll be late," James said as he rolled his eyes. "No matter how hard Moony tries, Padfoot will distract them."

"I never really understood why you call Remus Moony."

"Ahhhh, that's because in secondary school he was right in love with this younger girl—what was her name—Nymphadora Tonks—what a horrible name, don't you think? She went by Tonks. He'd moon over her something terrible."

"So why do you call Sirius Padfoot?"

"Have you ever heard him when he's tried surprising you?"

Lily shook her head.

"That's exactly why. It's like footsteps were uninvented for him. He's ridiculously silent when he's on the prowl for either ladies or food."

"All the better to sneak up on them, I suppose," laughed Lily, rolling her eyes. James nodded.

"And we call Peter Wormtail because—well, you do know worms aren't another animal's tails, don't you—"

Lily scoffed. "As a biology major, I hope I'd know that."

"Well, Wormy over there was so convinced that worms were the tails of birds. Why? Because he'd once seen a bird with a worm in her beak, and he'd mistaken the beak for the bird's bum. We all made awful fun of him. And I'm called Prongs because—Lily, don't get mad—but once I poked the seat of this boy I hated with the prongs of a fork, and—well—it just caught on."

Lily laughed, intrigued as always as she was by the stories of James's schooldays. She had met her now-husband and fallen in love with him in Cambridge, one of the most prestigious universities in England. James had been studying to be a lawyer, and Lily to be a doctor. He had asked her out with a bouquet of roses and an infectious smile, and she hadn't been able to resist his boyish charm.

Now she was pregnant with his child, and the couple had called all of her friends and his over to their house for a potluck baby shower. It was to be a very informal occasion, for friends and friends alone.

Lily pointed at the onions that James had cut and asked him to put them into the pot while she stirred. Lily's french onion soup was the best, and she was always asked to bring a pot to any party.

Just as the soup had entered its finishing stages, the telephone rang. "Ah, that must be Frank and Alice," said Lily. "James, do you mind terribly—I'm nearly done with the stew—"

James picked up the corded phone on the kitchen wall and spoke into the mouthpiece. "Hello? Frank, it's great to hear your voice again! Ah, sounds great. Lily's doing fine—I believe the baby's doing fine as well. He's kicking and everything! Alice—she's pregnant too?! Congratulations!"

Lily dropped the ladle into the pot and turned to face James, her eyes shining. "No! Really? Oh, this is wonderful! The baby will have a playmate!"

"I'm sure our baby and yours will be the best of friends!" James said, and spoke for a few more minutes until he hung up.

"Oh, James, I didn't know Alice and Frank were expecting too! This is lovely!"

James grinned at his wife and dipped a spoon into the soup.

"James, it's not done yet!"

"Tastes great to me," James said.

"It just needs a couple more minutes." Lily glanced at the clock. "Jesus, it's already 6:30? We'd better get tidy, we don't want to look like heathens when they arrive."

"I don't think either of us are in danger of that, thank you very much," said James, but went upstairs all the same.

A couple minutes later, the soup was done, and Lily turned off the stove and went upstairs. She changed into her prettiest maternity dress and fixed her hair and makeup. Ten minutes later, she was ready. Her foot had just reached the ground floor when the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," she shouted at James, who was still upstairs, doing God knew what.

She opened the door and was greeted by the smiling faces of Marlene Stewart—McKinnon, now—and her husband, Adam. They were accompanied by Mary MacDonald. Lily was supremely happy to see three of her childhood friends, and tried to hug them, but her baby bump got in the way.

Laughing, Lily escorted the three into the living room. Marlene hastened to answer the door the next time the doorbell rang, but was beaten by James Potter, who had finally come down the stairs.

The shouts and hearty laughter told Lily that Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs had been reunited at last. James led the small crowd into the living room, and excitedly told Lily that Alice and Frank were there, too.

The evening went by too fast for Lily and James' liking, but it was lovely to be surrounded by friends they hadn't seen in months, years even. Alice was planning on naming the child Sasha if it was a girl, Neville if it was a boy; Lily gushed over the adorable names and said she was partial to the name Grace for a girl or Harry for a boy, and James cut in, announcing that Elvendork was the most suitable, additionally, it's unisex.

The evening was full of laughter, of teasing, of joy; and it was with heavy hearts that Sirius, Peter, Remus, Marlene, Adam, Mary, Alice, and Frank left, well past midnight, wishing Lily and Alice the best of luck with their pregnancies.

Lily turned to James and smiled, and he walked over to her and hugged her, a warm, gentle, loving embrace that put into words both of their emotions. The two of them were extraordinarily lucky, having so many people who loved them and supported them. But each was the most lucky in having each other, for Lily without James, and James without Lily, was nothing.


End file.
